Rule Number One: Never Bake with the Enemy
by Devin Trinidad
Summary: Confused as to why he was silent, she crept over to him. (Don't do it! Its a trap! Its a trap!) Her face was bombarded with cream.


There was nothing wrong with baking in the café's kitchen. Nothing wrong at all if she did. Heck, the chef—she thought fondly as a surrogate father—encouraged that relaxing activity. However, was it deemed immoral, if per se, she baked with—?

"Kisshu, no!" The redhead screamed with a fiery passion as she latched herself onto him. She had ungraciously caught him at a bad time.

* * *

Even though it was her idea to bake cookies and other pastries in the stead of the head chef—"I got better, Ryou! Honest—it was clearly not her idea to let _this guy _aid her in the process of baking. Clad in baggy jeans, a dark green shirt reminiscent of their early meetings, boots, and apron, her alien friend looked harmless. The key word in that sentence was _looked._ Did her friends and coworkers not realize that putting these two in the same room fatal catastrophe just waiting to happen! Sure, they might have made peace with their alien rivals, but who was it to say that she had relinquished early feelings that he brought to the surface? In other words, Ichigo made it clear that he was not welcome at headquarters.

Of course, why was the hormonal male—albeit alien—teenager there to supervise? Simple, the mastermind behind the Mew project suggested—hear, bribed—that she would get a pay raise if she let him bake with her. Being that she was low on cash, due to a few mishaps ("Lettuce, not the carrot cake! The carrot ca—!) Or the time when ("Blowing up the kitchen wasn't my idea…IT WAS TARUTO'S!) Yep, she really needed new ways to pay for her shopping expenses.

Anyways, Ichigo reluctantly relented to that idea and put on her customary apron when she wanted to whip up something special. Today, she wasn't going to wear ANYTHING special. This was the alien dude that on numerous occasions who nearly molested her while they were 'fighting.' Pfft. Thinking back on it, they acted like an old married couple, not that Ichigo would care. Oh no, Mister-I-Hug-Trees was and still is her boyfriend. That, Ichigo really did care about.

With that thought in mind, Kisshu made it his sworn duty to unnecessarily draw attention from the former Mew. Such as:

"Can I be you boyfriend for the day?"

Or:

"Let me lick this butter…ALL OVER YOUR—" SLAP!

Or:

"Wanna dance Gangman Style with me?"

Sadly, all of his advances proved fruitless in his quest to claim his strawberry as his. Which pretty much brings us back to the start of the story.

* * *

While she had whipped up the batter in one of the many bowls that had littered the kitchen, her fiendish enemy discovered the many joys of watching butter melt on the stove. Subsequently, the butter burned and any moment the alarms would—

SCREEEEEEEECH!

The alarms went off.

With inhuman speed, the young teenager, forced open a window, fanned the fire alarm, and turned off the stove. She did it all in one second—kudos to her powers—and the lurking threat of her paycheck getting suspended. Sighing, when the alarm bells were finally ceasing their annoying ruckus, she turned to her least favorite companion and glared.

Scratch that.

She practically had laser beams installed into her retinas, causing her foe to back down into ashes. Well, if her blonde, stingy boss actually did experiment on that thought, then yes. However, it was not to be because the young man with dark green hair laughed without remorse. Really, had he no heart?

Placing her slender hands on her hips, she tried to detect any type of reconciliation from him, finding none. This is where her mentality kicked into overdrive.

Think, if you were a girl and was insulted by the guy that nearly killed you while pouring out a wretched confession, how would you react. No? Alrighty then, I got some steps for you to follow.

Step one, confront the male dominator and instate an assertive stance while talking in a barely restrained manner.

"Do you realize that I could have died from the smoke you caused?" Without a second thought her hands were placed defiantly on her hips. (Take notes, people!) Her dark brown eyes darkened to an almost unnatural color of red. It was a sure sign that any moment, her Mew powers would activate and violence would ensue without a single thought.

Nonetheless, the perverted alien was not one to be deterred and found it increasingly amusing to be in the presence of his beloved. Blowing a raspberry at her, he teleported behind her and hugged her middle. Unbeknownst to him, her willowy frame was shaking with fury. (Remember, girls, keep calm and carry on.)

"Aw, don't be like that Koneko-chan!" He teasingly played with her apron, as he smelled her strawberry scented locks. "Nobody's going to find out, right Kitty?" His dark topaz eyes bore into hers as the young man tried to get her back into her good graces. (Don't listen to him, ladies. All of those guys out there know how to do that and you need to realize that FEMINISM SHALL RULE THE WORLD... Moving on.)

Step two, scream at your desired victim. It's all in the diaphragm.

"Are you kidding me?" She practically screamed at him. Shrugging his lanky arms from her person, she turned to face him, murderous intent in her chocolate orbs. Without him noticing her sly maneuvers, she had grabbed a ladle filled her gooey concoction filled with the batter. (If all else fails stick to your inner feminist. That's how wars are started.) Any moment now…

Step three, if you don't want to be violent and retain your desired fragile flower image, act like a diplomat. Or a sleazy politician. Preferably female…like Sarah Palin!

"You know how much yen Shirogane-san is going to take out of my paycheck?" She wagged her fingers in front of him, as if to emphasize the matter. Skillfully, she tried to keep the smile that was trying to blossom on her face in check.

In response to her monstrous look on her pale face, Kisshu looked down and sighed in submission. Scratching the back of his head in a bashful manner, Kisshu finally had the decency to act repentant. (SUCCESS!) "Come on, Ichigo, it was all fun and—"

SPLAT!

The entirety of the spoon's contents dribbled down the roots of his luscious hair, down the side of his face, and onto his human attire. Never before had an assault had been so…so…so FEMALE LIKE! Because his head was still down, Ichigo did not realize that he was smirking, a dangerous thing to happen in the female world.

Step four, don't let you guard down and never give up.

"Didn't Keiichiro-san warn you not to mess with the Mews," Ichigo called out playfully.

She was deeply surprised when silence met her query.

So focused on his face that she did not realize that Kisshu held a little surprise wating to be sprung. (ABORT MISSION! ABORT MISSION!)

Scared that she probably killed him or something, Ichigo walked closer to her clowning friend and—(Don't do it! It's a trap! It's a—)

Her face was filled with whipped cream.

Oh, it was so going down tonight.

Step five, just have fun and enjoy life.

* * *

Happy belated Thanksgiving!


End file.
